


Control

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [45]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: As long as Caleb keeps control, everything is okay.





	Control

Mollymauk has so many descriptors to him. Flamboyant, obnoxious, terrifying even, depends on what time you catch him. Caleb reads in The Leaky Tap and Molly pauses behind him momentarily to sneak a quick glance at the book and kiss the top of his head, something that’s become a habit since Alfield, Caleb might even call himself Molly’s responsibility. He doesn’t  _ want _ be a responsibility, but how else could Molly ever look at him, now that he’s seen Caleb empty like that? Hollowed out, jack-o-lantern without a light, Caleb’s seen the way it looks on other people over the years and it’s a jarring, chilling experience, a result of trauma and almost traumatic in itself, but Molly had been so… Molly. Like he knew, like he knows, Caleb can feel the warm burn everywhere Molly has ever kissed him, everywhere Molly has ever touched him, the entire side of his face where Molly had patted it, trying to be intimidating.   
There’s such the back-and-forth, like Molly can’t stay mad, he gets upset and Caleb looks and thinks  _ this is it _ , like Molly will never care for him again, never kiss him again, because why would he?    
And then they sit down in the tavern and Caleb waits to be kicked out of the Nein, and Molly kisses his head and talks to him softly, falls asleep leaning against his shoulder gently and for anyone, anyone else, Caleb would let them fall but he can’t bring himself to see Molly hurt for his actions. That’ll be his downfall, he suspects, he tries not to get attached because all he ever does, all he’s ever done, all he ever will do, is hurt the people he cares for, hurt the people he loves, and he looks at Molly, talking animatedly with Jester. And knows.   
He loves him.   
Molly stops halfway through a sentence as he catches a look at Caleb, it stalls a moment and he finishes and gestures to Jester who turns to Fjord, immediately, and pulls the conversation and attention from Molly so that he can lean in to Caleb,   
“You alright?” his voice is quiet, whether to avoid attention or avoid shocking Caleb, he feels like a pity case and swallows because that’s not what he wants from Mollymauk. The last thing he wants, anything but that, even if he can’t get what he  _ really _ wants.   
“I- I-  _ ja _ , I’m good.” He half-lies, he’s not terrible but there’s an odd cacophony of thought and feeling in the base of his throat right now and it’s hard to talk past it, he takes a sip of his drink and even that sticks for a moment, Molly frowns and scoots his chair a little closer.   
“Yeah, bullshit.” and Caleb sighs, because how could he ever hope to fool Molly when he knows him better than he knows himself, sometimes?    
It’s Caleb, not Molly, that leans over now. Caleb, who settles his head on Molly’s shoulder and doesn’t talk, just  _ breathes  _ because he’s safe here. Any kind of contact sets off alarms in his head but he knows what he’s doing and he’s in control and can the voice up there chirruping about his mistakes just please  _ stop _ ?   
Molly tips his head to press his cheek to Caleb’s hair, the weight is reassuring, and the pressure is light, Caleb is still in control. He can move. He can leave. He can abandon Molly, if he chooses, he doesn’t choose to. He reaches, scrambles a little under the table to find Molly’s hand and take it, and Molly gives a little,    
“ _ Oh. _ ” but laces their fingers together.   
“I, hm. Is this, okay?” The halt and stutter tells Caleb just how nervous he is, he can’t ignore the proof of it, but Molly squeezes gently.   
“Oh, I was wondering when you’d catch on.” His voice is soft, Caleb feels the movement when he talks, it’s a little squished, he doesn’t peel his cheek away from Caleb’s head after all. Caleb gives a hum of confusion, and Molly sighs a, a little, like he understands,   
“Oh, you didn’t.”   
“Catch on?” Caleb asks, because the possibility his mind is presenting is unreal, couldn’t possibly, it’s been  _ so fucking long _ since someone loved him.   
“Caleb, sit up.” Molly pulls away finally, and Caleb does, he tries to pull his hand back too and Molly squeezes reassuringly, doesn’t hold tight, just squeezes. Caleb is still in control.   
He squeezes back.   
Molly’s free hand slides, lightly, up Caleb’s side and presses fingertips to the curve of his jaw, so  _ fucking _ gentle and Caleb doesn’t feel like a responsibility so much any more. More like a treasure, something delicate, not in the way that makes someone concerned, but the way of spider webs, of elegance and beauty and fine detail and his eyes are wide and he stares at Molly and the way his lips move.   
“Gorgeous as you are, love, I was hoping for a little more in the way of answers.” Molly’s voice, the sound of the tavern, it all fades back in and Caleb realises he hasn’t heard a word before that.   
“Sorry, what?”    
“I asked you if it would be okay if I kissed you.” Molly says, soft, firm, flat and warm all at once and Caleb can’t quite believe it. He’s dreaming, surely, he’s got to be- it wouldn’t be the first time he’s dreamt of Molly kissing him. He never usually asks, in his dreams, though, this is a first.   
“Caleb, fucks sake,” Molly twitches and shuffles, “A yes, no, or ‘ask me later’ please, anything. Just not silence.”   
“Yes.” Caleb manages, finally, “Please.”   
Molly leans in closer and lets Caleb close the last half-inch, all his control, he feels Caleb’s hand skitter up his chest and grip, loosely, the collar of his shirt and pull to press their lips together just a little harder.   
Jester is doing such a good job at distraction but she can’t stop herself in time, she catches sight and her hand flies to her mouth in a combination of shock and joy,   
“Oh, good!”   
And the others follow her line of sight, Beau chuckles as she sits further back in her chair, Fjord huffs a “Fuckin’ finally.”    
Nott hums, high pitched, arms crossed, chirps, “I won’t hesitate to kill you, Molly.” and that’s when they finally pull apart and Caleb looks around to them like a deer in the headlights, he’d forgotten, momentarily, that they were even there.   
Molly doesn’t take his eyes from Caleb, it’s like his emotions are the colour on his face, so plain, the soft smile, affectionate expression, still silver-tongued,   
“If you can reach.”   
Nott goes for her hand crossbow, Jester sets a hand over hers on the handle.   
“Don’t be mean, Molly! Don’t ruin it!”   
“You’ve been complainin’ to me for fuckin’ long enough.” Fjord’s eyebrows raise, “Thought you didn’t stand a chance.”   
“Oh, who could ever resist me?” Molly finally drags his eyes from Caleb to lean over and meet Fjord’s, mischief tugging a smile at the corners of his mouth. Caleb whips back around,   
“Mollymauk.” It’s a warning, more than a reprimand, and Molly nods,   
“Alright, enough attention, Caleb’ll explode and I can’t have you killing my boyfriend.”   
There’s a stunned silence, and Molly turns fractionally to study Caleb’s expression,   
“If that’s how you’d label yourself?”   
Jester does the first thing to come to mind and spits a quick word in Infernal and all the windows in the tavern fly open at once as Caleb throws himself, quite literally, into a hard kiss with Molly. Beau and Fjord, quite immediately, turn and snip at her until she mutters another word and all of the windows slam shut again and Caleb draws back, flushed and messy.   
“‘S that a yes?” Molly manages, through the swimming haze in his head of Caleb, Caleb’s warmth, Caleb’s teeth, Caleb’s tongue,  _ his Caleb _ , and the accused gulps down the threat of tears and nods, just once, but firm, and Molly smiles.    
Their fingers, still interlinked under the table, tighten.

**Author's Note:**

> anyone else get that feeling of like... this minor upset happened and thats it forever?  
> its hell


End file.
